Image:
Physical Description:
Unlike her peers, Ursula has only recently began developing womanly shape, her hips and bottom firmly round. She stands at an average height, with a lithe frame much like the others of her race. Her hair is full but the pale blonde strands are thin and wispy, waving gently to the middle of her lower back when loose. Often, she pulls her hair into a single braid, shortening the length. Her appearance, somewhat childish still, can be seen in her round, oval face and large, muddy brown eyes. There is little definition in her chin or jaw, and the bridge of her nose is rather low. Resting below are light pink lips that are moderately plump.
Age: 200
Gender: Female
Race: Elves
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Role: Mage (Healer)
Personalty: At first glance, Ursula appears to be a day dreamer, her vision rose-coloured and words gentle and compliant. Polite and sweet, she is an understanding individual that seems to exude love and fragility. She is a wonderful listener and fair advisor, but due to an emotional nature, often takes in the suffering of others as her own. A dangerous combination of naivety, gullibility and a tendency to self-sacrifice causes her loved ones to dote on her, growing more possessive by the day. Maturing slowly, Ursula has begun her rebellious phase, often wandering dangerously close to the outskirts of the village. As a late bloomer, her personality is much more developed and is less prone to self-esteem issues than her peers, but she is not without her flaws. Overindulgence, with food mostly, has plagued her all her life, resulting in embarrassment and ridicule in her younger days. Indecision stems from her desire to avoid conflict, for she often acts as mediator. She is manipulative and loves to play as the victim, and despite being aware of this, Ursula is much too involved in making her fantasies a reality than to face reality itself.
History: Ursula's journey began with death, her mother suffering from sepsis (blood poisoning) shortly after the birth of her last child. Even with magic at hand, her body too weak to restore itself by the time the disease was discovered. Mourning followed, subsiding quickly into whispers: "Is this child cursed?", "Did she steal the life of our beloved?". Her father, Havelock, stern and stoic as he was, showed little change during the events and said nothing to the naysayers. Her brother was distant to begin with, close to neither parent. His behaviour worsened in the years that followed, disappearing for months at a time, leaving Ursula emotionally and often physically alone. It was only through others that she learned of her family, of how her father was once a prestigious elf that ruled over a great body of humans, a selfish lord they called him and her mother, the kind, resilient lady. After the war, the winter of their journey to finding Orien was treacherous for during the last leg, the lady was with child. The gods must have smiled upon her, for she survived and gave birth to Frey in the relative safety of the village. Her father became a lord turned merchant, involving himself in the fur trade. Her mother became a tailor and seamstress, an obvious fact considering the plethora of dresses she had sewn for her future daughter. Many of which Ursula has sadly long outgrown.
Major Skills:
Herbalism
Medicine
Healing (Magic)
Minor Skills:
Tracking
Playing the lute
Cooking
Equipment:
Wooden apprentice staff
Apprentice mage robes
Satchel
Journal and charcoal
Straw basket (for herb collection)
Wooden containers, utensils and scraps of cloth
Personal Side Quest Idea(s):
Frey has disappeared for far too long, but Ursula hesitates to find a brother she calls stranger.
Having observed romance between her friends, she, finally maturing of body, grows curious.
Escaping the stigma associated with her origin.
Growing as a healer to prevent tragedies such as her mother's death.
Sample Writing:
Nothing else could be heard but the rustling of cloth for silence was a loyal companion, unyielding in its presence. It seemed as though this was a world in itself, encased within the fabric of time. A young girl moved quietly through its halls, disturbing little in her way, used as she was to its walls, its floors. Her knees, dimpled faintly, eased on to the folded fur. Above her makeshift cushion, she placed her hands together, palms kissing.
"Today I went to harvest the turmeric. The rain was insistent and poured since dawn, so I had no choice but to bear it. They seem healthy, Coimas bless us. Frey has still not returned, and father is to return in eight days if all goes well." She reported, her voice calm and unworried. Her eyes rose to meet the small bauble sitting comfortably upon the table, her hands drooping slightly, relaxing.
"I...heard them."
She did not dare to repeat the words aloud, though they already circled incessantly in her mind like vultures. Already she could feel the cold sting in her chest penetrating her defenses. It was pointless to worry, to dwell, but her arms remained open still. Reverie was her saviour, but she was unprepared at the time, her trust misplaced. Soon, water began to cling to her eyes stubbornly, refusing to fall. She remained kneeling, statuesque, as though she were a marble sculpture depicting worship. The passing of time seemed faraway, immortalized as she was in art. It was not until the scent of wet fur that the elf broke her position, a slight smile upon a young face. Bidding her mother farewell, she spoke no more as she returned to her duties.
Other: For the Elves!